Dream Catcher
by Reservation Red
Summary: Two worlds are brought together by a fragile bridge of trust from an encounter at the County fair. Promises are made but only to haunt Krista and Ymir. AU Shoujo-Ai / Yuri Yumikuri
1. Chapter 1: Underneath the Willow

The October air was stale with the scent of decaying leaves and wet soil.

Krista sat behind the largest pumpkin in the patch off the road home. Her hands felt cool against the moist dirt. She snuck a glance over the pumpkin and found nobody was in sight. She knelt down on her knees and withdrew her library book from her bag. It was a compendium of Grimm Fairytales. It was thick as it was large. The green hard-cover had an oil-painting of a thinly-clothed woman asleep on a marble altar with roses growing around her hair.

Out of all the stories, Krista loved Sleeping Beauty the most.

Her shaky hands stroked the cover, tracing the small scratches and dents in it.

Sometimes, when she would read at night, she'd feel like the sleeping princess.

Krista looked up at the grey sky.

It was getting dark now.

The birch trees that lined the patch were still as their gold and orange leaves fell to the ground.

A drop of perspiration fell into her eye. She wiped the sweat from her brow and recoiled. The bruise above her eye stung. She wished that she could go to sleep and wake up to a happy ending like the princess. That she was beautiful enough to have all these wonderful things happen.

Krista opened the book to her bookmark. The words were familiar. She bet that she could close her eyes and read it from memory. She smeared the snot coming from her nose on her sleeve as she began to read where she left off.

"She shall have a temper as sweet as an angel," Krista's voice was uneven as she kept breathing heavily.

She stopped reading and tried to catch her breath. She didn't want to think of why she was in the pumpkin patch, hiding, and with a growing bruise above her eye. She couldn't even concentrate on reading.

Krista took a large inhale but the autumn air was too much.

She erupted into a fit of coughs.

"I heard something over there!" A voice called out.

Krista covered her mouth and ducked her head to her knees. She closed her book and held it above her head just in case another rock was thrown at her. The sound of bicycles rolled through the patch.

Krista held her breath as they stopped nearby.

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know."

Krista's curiosity got the best of her as she took a glance beyond her pumpkin.

The five boys were looking towards the forest by the patch. One of them began to turn their head as she quickly darted behind the pumpkin again.

"I bet she ran in there!"

"Yeah right. Girls can't run that fast."

"They don't, but we could'a got her if you were faster!"

"Let's go then! My mom is waiting for me!"

The bicycles went speeding by and onto the forest trail.

Krista was still until she couldn't hear their laughing anymore.

She coughed more as she was finally able to breathe again. Her knuckles hurt as she let go of her book. She wiped the sweat off her brow again. She stood up, scanning for the boys. When she couldn't see them, she put the book back into her bag and took off running back onto the dirt road.

She felt her heart race now that she was in the open.

Krista's blonde hair whipped around her as she ran home.

Her farm's property came into view along the road. It was lined with a decaying, mossy fence. She stopped and slid through a gap in the posts. She looked down the road to see the gang of boys on their bicycles racing towards her direction. She gasped and ran to the house.

She didn't look back in fear they were gaining on her.

The farmhouse sat on top of a grassy knoll with only one, large willow tree in the front. An old tire swing hung from it—the chains were rusty as it squeaked in the wind. Its cry beckoning her to rush up the last of the hill. The screen door opened as she stopped in front of porch's steps.

Krista was breathing heavily while hugging herself. Her grandpa came out of the house. He put his old, grease-stained Gatsby cap on. He shook his head and closed the door. She stiffened when he turned towards her. The porch light turned on as his brown eyes lit up even though his face was stern. He crossed his arms.

She bit her lip and glanced towards the tire swing.

Within its circle, the sun was beginning to set. She was late.

"I'm sorry," Krista said. She felt her hands wring around each other as she tried to keep her breathing steady.

Krista looked down at her feet. She saw his muddy work boots shift until she saw his knees, too. She looked up to see he was crouching near her. He put his wrinkled, calloused hand to the side of her face. His palm covered half of it. Gently, his hand went to the bruise above her eye. She winced as he prodded near the bruise with observing eyes.

She moved her face away in discomfort.

"Um…I-I was walking home, and then Jordice and them came on their bikes. Someone threw a rock at me and hit me in the head. I ran through Mr. George's property and hid in his pumpkin patch until I felt it was safe to come home. I would've gone straight home! I didn't mean to be late!"

His hand was becoming wet as she realized she was crying. She could barely feel her own tears on her cold face.

"I tried to get home!" Krista's nose was runny and she felt her throat become scratchy.

Grandpa frowned and moved his hand to her forehead.

"You're getting sick."

He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His face was deep with wrinkles. His sunken eyes bore down on her. His lips were pursed and his chevron mustache twitched to the right. It always did that when he was thinking. Krista saw him often do it when he did his crosswords. He took his hands out of his pockets and went inside.

She followed, trying to muffle her sobbing. She wiped my nose again and wished she had a mirror to smooth her hair down.

"Krista's back," he announced.

From the kitchen, she heard mild cursing and the stomps of her grandmother's feet. She came upon Krista like a storm until the small blond was in her shadow.

"Missy!" She bellowed. Krista felt her chest tighten as she took a step back.

"You were out with those boys again, weren't you?! You're eight and still don't listen! How many times do I have to tell you!?" In one hand, she had a ladle that smelled like chicken broth. In the other was a towel.

"Your hair is messy! Auggghh, and your dress too! Why, I don't think you've learned from last time!" Grandmother brought the ladle close to Krista's face. She was readying herself for a swat.

However, grandma pulled away and glared at Krista.

"Helena!" Grandmother cried out. She turned towards the stairs with a scowl.

"Helena!" She screamed again.

This time Krista heard a sigh and the quiet sound of feet shuffling. Descending like a queen, her mom made her approach. Her black dress was glittering and red lipstick glinting. Her face was completely composed. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun.

Grandpa quietly left to the living room now. Krista felt my throat tighten in fear. She wish he stayed near her.

"What is it?" Krista's mom's voice was soft and beautiful.

"Discipline your daughter! She was out late and with boys! Take care of your child!"

Grandmother grumbled and went to the kitchen.

Her mom kept her gaze on grandma's back when she got to the bottom of the stairs.

"Why do you do this?" She asked. Her voice was cold and dead like how she always spoke to Krista.

She wouldn't look at her daughter.

She never did. Krista felt the tears swell up again.

She almost choked as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I-I-I was coming home, and—"

"I don't want to hear it." Mom sighed, walking into the living room.

"Dad," she smiled. Krista followed in after her.

Grandpa glanced at Krista with a frown then at mom. His face tightened as she seated on the arm of his chair, taking the book out of his hands and reading the cover.

"I will go get it." Krista's voice was weak as she already knew what she had to do. Papa nodded at her. She began to walk out, listening to what her mom was saying.

"Eric will be coming to pick me up, and I just put on my face. Can you do it?" Her voice was like velvet as Krista shut the front door.

She stepped off the porch and went to the willow tree. She walked around it, trailing her hand on its rough trunk while staring up at its branches. She stopped as she found the largest branch she could break off. She climbed up the tree and to the branch. She wiggled it until it loosened before throwing herself on it.

A loud snap and the branch and she went falling to the ground.

She stood up, brushing off her dress, and retrieved the branch. She dragged it behind her as she went back to the house, preparing herself to get whipped.

"Watch out," her mom went out of the house. She pushed past Krista and waited for her boyfriend.

Krista glanced down the dirt road to see a car coming up the drive-way. She continued up the porch until she was inside with the willow branch.

"Here, papa." She put it down by him.

The fire was roaring in the corner as the old radio's music mingled with static. He sat down the book he was reading and took it in his hands. He examined it closely. He gave a test swat to the palm of his hand without a flinch.

A red mark formed where the branch struck.

"Goddammit, that girl!" Grandmother roared again.

Krista hopped near papa in fright.

Grandma went stomping down the hallway and Krista could hear the flap of her coat.

"Helena didn't even go and get the milk like I said. I will be right back! You talk to her when she gets back!" Grandmother growled and slammed the door as she left.

Krista and her grandpa were left in silence.

"Now," grandpa spoke. She turned around quickly and she lifted her dress to expose her underwear-clad rear to him.

Krista squeezed her eyes' shut, ready to be disciplined.

Her grandpa's hand on her shoulder made her jump. He turned her around. His eyes were soft.

"I don't feel like grabbing another stack of wood. Why don't we call it even if you throw this in the fire?" He leaned back, handing Krista the willow branch.

She felt her eyes widen. She wasn't sure if she heard him right as she was rooted to her spot.

Grandpa raised an eyebrow and wagged the branch near her. Krista snatched it from him as fast as she could.

"Y-yes sir!" Krista quickly went to the fire and threw it in.

The fire crackled and sputtered as the leaves were enveloped in its flames. She felt her cheeks sting from warmth as she smiled, hugging herself. She kneeled down in front of the fire, rubbing the tears and snot from her face with her sleeve.

"Our secret," grandpa was staring at Krista as he sought his book again.

"Our secret." Krista felt the snot cover her lips again, but she smiled at him. His mustache twitched as his lips ever lightly turned upward.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:  
><strong> **The first chapter might undergo several edits and changes before the second chapter is put up. **


	2. Chapter 2: Lift Me Like An Olive Branch

Krista couldn't sleep that night as she kept tossing and turning from her cold. She sat up and tried to breathe out of her nose, but it was stuffed. She grabbed the napkins by her bed and blew.

A hopeless amount of snot and boogers came out, but it didn't clear up. Krista accidently snorted as she attempted to breathe through her nose again. She laid back down, staring up at her ceiling. She closed her eyes.

The sound of an owl, the wind through the willow outside her window, the fire cackling, Krista's mom and her boyfriend, and the snoring of grandpa drifted into Krista's ears.

Even though it was night time, this house was still alive.

"Not there," Krista could hear her mom plead to only be muffled again by the noises she made with her boyfriend.

She rolled over in bed, looking at her nightstand.

On it was a little music box that papa worked on for a woman who decided she didn't want it anymore. Krista begged to have it and was surprised one day when it was on her nightstand. She plucked it from its spot and began to turn the clockwork.

The soft music began.

The beginning was upbeat. Krista hummed with it. Papa said the song was called Heart and Soul, composed by Hoagy Carmichael. Whenever the house was too loud at night, she'd play the music box. It made her feel comfortable and it drowned out every other noise.

Krista's eyes closed again as she put the box next to her head.

She didn't wake until the early morning. She heard grandma's kettle whistling, the old radio's static music, and the sound of her mom's door quietly creaking open. Krista got up to begin her morning chores.

As she stepped out of her room, a man froze outside her mom's door. His eyes were big as saucers as if he got caught. Krista glanced up at him and then away. She passed him and got a pungent sniff of beer and cologne. He would be gone soon enough.

Papa said there was no use in trying to get to know them.

"Krista," grandma was calling her. Krista flew down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Work on the dough, missy." She pointed to the flour and ball of dough on the counter.

"Ok." She began to knead the dough as the floorboards of the stairs creaked.

Krista could see Papa at the table not even glance away from his book as the man stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He glanced in the kitchen with a strange look. Grandma gave him one look before busying herself even more.

The front door and screen opened as the man tried to sneak away. However, the door was creaky and the screen slammed behind him. The soft hum of a car starting signaled his departure.

Papa was always right that they never stuck around for breakfast.

As the sky got brighter, Krista was told to get the mail. She rode her bike down the hill. She felt the cold breeze numb her nose, but it also made her feel like she was flying. Krista laughed while sailing down the driveway to the mailbox.

Using a dingy metal stool, she began to dig for the mail, but was met with a strange, soft, and papery wad of something. She pulled it out and discovered a large amount of ones in her hand. Krista's eyes widened.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed it smelled a lot like the man from before—beer and cologne. He must've forgot it or something. She frowned and put the cash in the basket of her bicycle along with their mail. That was a lot of money. It could probably buy so much candy, or even a toy.

Krista sighed.

Either way, it wasn't hers, and she still had the long trek up the hill back to the house with her bike. She slowly trudged her way back up, but not regretting the freedom she felt riding down.

Once inside, Krista went straight to her grandpa.

"Papa," she had the money in her hand. He glanced up. At the sight of the money, his mustache immediately began to twitch.

"I found this in the mailbox." She handed him the newspaper, mail, and money.

Krista was leaving for school when her mom came down to eat breakfast. Her mom seemed very angry until she saw grandpa with the money. Krista quickly snuck away to put on her backpack. She watched as her mom went over with a skip and stole the money from papa.

"Oh, that's mine." She hummed and began to flick through the bills. Krista felt her face light up at her mom's happiness. Krista stole a glance at grandpa to see him look sad.

He shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Twenty-four," her mom counted as she went past Krista to the kitchen.

"Helena, will you help clean up?" Grandma asked, but mom didn't respond as she left with a glass of orange juice and toast. She silently went back upstairs and to her room. What she did in there, Krista did not know.

She was forbidden from entering her mom's room.

If she ever tried to peek inside, she'd get swatted with a willow.

"That girl," grandma shook her head as she began to clean up.

Krista went to grandma and got her lunch. She ran to the living room and gave papa a kiss on the nose. His mustache hairs tickling and scratching as he didn't move from his spot, but she swore she saw a smile on his lips. Krista was about to leave for school till his rough hand took her by the arm.

"You're sick," papa looked at her. He leaned back in his chair as he sat Krista down on the ottoman.

"Gladys," he hollered.

"I'm right here!" Grandma grumbled, walking into the living room while wiping her hands off with an apron.

"You don't have to shout. I'm not deaf yet," she sat on the couch before glancing at Krista.

"And you, shouldn't you be off to school?" She was looking at her expectantly. Papa sighed.

"She's sick," he said gesturing to Krista.

"What?" Grandma didn't seem to notice anything, though. Papa's brow furrowed while crossing his arms. Grandma gave a closer inspection before looking unmoved.

"What, the snot all of her face, rosy cheeks, dirt on her forehead, and hair everywhere? That mess? She always looks like that." She frowned.

Krista sat there, feeling that she should quickly leave for school. It didn't matter if she was sick or not, grandma said she was ok so she must be.

"She's sick. She'll stay home. I need help today, anyways." He tugged off Krista's backpack from her shoulder and put it by his feet. Grandma stood up.

"A car garage is not a place for a lady." She sniffed. Grandpa gave a scoff.

"As you said, she always looks like that. Not much of a lady, right?" His voice was gruff but there was lightness to it.

Krista brought her gaze back to grandma.

She shook her head.

"Whatever. Do as you wish, but you have to call the school." She wandered back to the kitchen. Papa stood up and retrieved the phone, dialing the number as he lumbered back to his chair.

Krista listened as the phone rang.

"Krista is sick…Yes… a cold… Bye." As quick as that she was free from the bullies at school for today.

Papa put the phone down and stood up.

His large build towered over Krista. He wore jeans and a button up shirt with suspenders. Like always, he had his Gatsby cap on. He walked out of the living room, going towards the door. She stood there, uncertain.

"Krista," he called for her.

Krista quickly jumped and ran after her grandpa as they left outside. The morning air was warmer than before but still stung. He strode towards the old barn. Inside was his workshop where he tinkered.

Their fields behind the barn were frosted over. The horses were only specks on the distant hills of our land. Krista found she had to almost run to keep up with her grandfather's strides. When they reached the barn, he opened it. The doors were loud as they groaned. It was dark. Krista went inside as he closed the large door behind him.

She held still where she was. She couldn't see in front of her. She could hear his heavy footsteps and a click.

The barn lit up from fluorescent lights.

All around Krista were various parts of rusty machinery. The rafters had various pieces of rope, chains, signs, and even a model airplane hanging from it. The walls were covered with posters of cars, beer advertisements, and some aged photos. In the middle of the barn was something covered in tarp. Behind the object was a large table with tools and strange gadgets. Krista looked up to see that the windows were covered in some sort of brown paint. She bit her lip as she went to the corner, unsure what to do.

This was the only third time Krista ever was able to be in here.

The other two times were her sitting at the front of the barn, knocking, to tell papa that lunch was done. Papa went over to the table and turned on an old radio. The static echoed through the barn until finally he hit his desired channel.

A soft, quiet melody sang through the morning quietness.

Krista watched as papa went around and grabbed a dingy looking stool. He patted it. She ran over and climbed onto it. It was cold against her legs.

"It'll get warm." He spoke, going over to a heater that was nestled between stacks of plywood. It started up with a hum. Krista brought her knees to her legs to keep warm.

He walked over to the tarp and slowly began to take it off. He unveiled a sunset orange car from underneath.

"This is a 1970 'cuda," papa said with a sigh. He took out a rag and began to wipe it down, even if it was already shiny.

Krista hopped off the stool and walked around it.

The front was boxy. It had something protruding from the hood of it. On the back, it had what was called a spoiler. Papa was already working hard on it. Krista wondered why he didn't drive it outside, or why it was stuck in here. She examined it closer. There was a black stripe on it. The top part of the car was black, too.

"Krista," papa nodded off to the stereo. Krista went over to it and sat there, unsure what he wanted her to do. He lifted the hood of the car with a grunt and began to fiddle with something.

"Turn it up." His voice was light. The usual gruff was gone. His dark eyes didn't look anywhere but on his car.

On his lips was a rare smile as he wiped something off. His lips then pursed together and she heard a low whistle. Krista turned up the volume with a forming smile.

A familiar song came up as she gasped.

"Heart and Soul?" Krista grinned as she turned it up some more, and papa didn't say otherwise.

He whistled along with the tune while working on his car. Krista sat nearby the table on her stool, listening to the song. It was so sweet.

The music box she had wasn't like this.

"Screwdriver," papa held his hand out and resumed the whistling. Krista slid off her stool and looked at the tools laid out on the table.

There were so many.

"The one that has a sharp tip. It's straight," he clarified. She found the one he described and handed it to him. He examined it before nodding and whistling once again.

Krista stared at his lips as she tried to mimic him, but all that came out was air and spit. Krista went back to her stool and pushed it closer to the car. She watched with curiosity as he was taking something apart from the inside.

He gave her screws to hold.

The whole time they sat there, working on the car, he'd smile at her, and even gave a coarse chuckle when Krista was disgusted with how much grease and oil was on her hands.

His smile and laughter brought her attention to him, though. She quickly forgot about her messy hands, dirtying her clothes in the process.

His eyes were lit up, and he even took his hat off to scratch his head in thought. Unlike most grandpas on TV, he wasn't balding. In fact, his hair looked like a bird's nest made of charcoal and silver string.

They sat in the garage till late afternoon.

The sun was setting and he was whistling Heart and Soul.

The horses were still specks against the bleeding sky as they walked back to the house.

She felt tired. She couldn't keep up with him.

Papa glanced back at Krista as she tried to chase after him. He went back to her and picked her up, holding her close to him. Krista felt her eyes water as she hugged him. His hands were big on her back, too, and hot. She never felt so warm before. He was so tall. Krista felt like she was on top of the world with him. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder, smearing snot and tears until she was crying onto his shoulder with soft wails.

"Oh, Krista, enough of that" his voice was soft and quiet as they walked back to the house. Krista closed her eyes, sniffling. She didn't want to be put down, ever. But Krista never was able to experience that awful moment if he did, because she fell asleep in his hug.


	3. Chapter 3: Playing Under the Apple Tree

While Krista was sick Papa would bring her out to the barn with a huff or grumble. Grandma wouldn't say anything but would give Krista a disapproving look when she went with him. Mother never said anything—she never did in the first place. Once they were inside the shop he'd start smiling. He taught her the names of some of the tools and what they were meant for. Krista would hand him tools while sitting on her stool and he'd hum and talk about the car from morning to evening.

Krista almost forgot that it wouldn't always be like this.

"You're better," he stood up, staring at the thermometer.

He began to walk away, going towards his chair by the fire, ready to read his book—back to the Papa she knew before getting sick. Things would return to how they were before.

Krista couldn't stop herself once she began. She covered her mouth as hiccups and whimpers came out.

Papa stopped and turned around with a frown.

"What's this about?" He put the thermometer on the side table and went back over to her, hands stuffed into pockets.

"I-I don't want to go to school," was all Krista could muster before the wails kicked in. Something flashed over Papa's eyes.

"You're getting tired," he nodded towards the staircase, indicating he'd escort her to her room.

She wouldn't budge.

Papa shook his head.

She ran up to him, hugging his leg, and burying her snot and tears into it.

"I want to stay with you!" Krista clung tightly. He didn't move for a few seconds. She felt his arms reach down, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and made sure if he tried to pry her off he wouldn't succeed without a fight. Slowly with some grumbles, Papa brought Krista upstairs and to her room and let her down. She quickly went to changing into her nightgown. Papa went to the door. With her jeans halfway down and nightgown only around her neck Krista fumbled to the door and blocked his way out.

He looked down with his mustache twitching.

"No," she sternly said, trying to give him the disapproving look grandma gave.

He sighed and went and sat down on her bed. Krista made quick work of changing and crawled into bed. Once under the covers, Papa tried to leave her again. She took hold of his hand, tugging him to stay.

"Krista," he gave me an impatient glance. She didn't let go of his hand.

For a while they only stared into each other's eyes. It was a staring contest, but his eyes seemed distant like when he'd stare out the window after reading the newspaper.

Papa moved and her hold tightened, but he was only reaching for her music box. Krista gave his arm a little slack as he shifted and took it. He wound it up and put it back on the nightstand.

The sharp notes covered the room. The wind was whispering and the owl in the willow spoke back.

However, that familiar silence was broken when she heard Papa's soft humming. His other hand went up to her head, taking her hair and gently ruffling it. His fingers went along her scalp, sending pleasant waves of comfort through her. Krista's grip on his hand lessened as the thought of burying herself deeper in her bed became appealing. Eventually, she did let go and he didn't leave. Her eyes were heavy but she kept them on him, making sure he didn't leave—the Papa Krista met these past few days.

Tears came back to her eyes. When tomorrow comes, everything would be like how it used to. If she stayed awake then maybe things wouldn't change, because they wouldn't have the time to adjust.

"Papa," her voice was laced with sleep as her eyes couldn't stay open much longer. Some tears went down her face as Krista tried and tried.

He gave a grunt in response.

"I love you."

It was quiet for a long time. The sound of the music box had long stopped, leaving them only listening to the breeze outside her window with the wind chimes.

Papa removed his hand from her hair. Krista could feel him move as something prickly and rough was momentarily on her forehead. The bed shifted, floorboards creaked, and the door closed with a groan and a click. Distant groaning of the staircase drifted into her room.

Krista fell asleep as the familiar silence overtook her room. The only indicator that her time with Papa wasn't a dream was the warm spot at the edge of her bed.

-x-x-x-

"Hey, where you going?" Bikes tires narrowly missed Krista's feet as she kept her head down. The dirt road was empty except for the circle of boys, cycling around her.

"What's wrong with you? Scared?" She didn't look up as she absently kicked a rock down the road. A large shriek was heard as a boy fell off his bike. The other boys laughed, stopping and pointing at him.

"Hey!" As quick as that they were back at her.

"You should go faster! Why aren't you running from us? Want to get hit that bad?" The tires were biting at Krista's heels now. She could feel skin break each time they slid into the back of her. It reminded her of the time that Papa accidentally closed the barn door too fast, scraping the back of her feet.

Krista could only wonder how much work he did on the car today and if he missed her in the shop.

The boys kept cycling by her, laughing at each other and occasionally smacking into her with their bikes or jabbing their fingers into her sides. They kept with her until Krista could see her family's property.

"This is boring," as if on cue they left. Her rib cage hurt when she breathed and her socks were wet. She stopped, leaning down to check the back of her feet to see blood. Not a lot though. Krista stood up straight and adjusted her backpack and kept walking. Grandma would have chores for her to do, like usual. And like usual, when she was done, she'd spend the rest of the day on the tire swing. No more helping Papa.

Krista slid through the gap of the mossy fence. The squeak of the tire swing was coaxing her up the hill as she began her trek. The back of her socks were becoming damp now as her shoe kept rubbing the scrapes raw. Hopefully grandma wouldn't get mad.

"Krista," she shot her head up to see Papa on the porch, sitting in the rocking chair. He motioned for her to hurry. Krista ran up the rest and stood at the bottom of the porch's steps, panting. She stared up at him with a smile. His dark eyes were scanning over her until she saw a very small smile come on his lips. He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets with a grumble.

"Go get changed, I will wait for you."

Krista felt her eyes widen as she gaped at him. His smile widened a bit more.

"OK!" Krista quickly shot past him and almost knocking grandma down as she went upstairs to get into jeans and her play shirt. Krista could barely hear what grandma was saying to him. Krista was out in seconds, hopping around Papa as they went across the yard to the barn.

He kept glancing at her when she looked up as if he was expecting something.

"What?" Krista smiled, grabbing his arm. He looked away but he didn't stop smiling. He heaved open the groaning door. The shop lights were already on. He must have been working on the car some while she was at school.

Krista ran in and grabbed her stool from the corner and dragged it near the tool box. She was halfway up it when she felt Papa's hand on her shoulder. Krista glanced back, wondering what he was going to tell her, but saw something. A wrapped present.

"Huh?"

When she got off the stool, Papa gave her the package and stuffed his hands back in his pockets. It almost fell out of Krista's hands from how heavy it was. It was rectangular with Power Puff Girls wrapping paper. Her favorite cartoon.

"P-Papa?" Maybe he was having her hold it for now, because she never got presents unless it was a special occasion.

"It's yours. Open it." His voice was strained as he looked at the ground, shuffling.

Krista felt her cheeks hurt as she sat on the ground, placing it in front of her. She took the edge and tore it. Something pink and shiny peeked from behind it. She put her hand to it—it was cold. She ripped off the rest of the wrapping paper to find a pink, metal box. It was a lot larger than her plastic lunchbox. In fact it looked a lot like—

"It's your own tool box," Krista looked up at him to see a toothy smile, "look inside of it."

Immediately she unlatched the box and opened it.

She gasped.

There were pink gloves on top of folded jean overalls with pink boots. Next to them were small tools like Papa's. She picked up the wrench, examining it closer. It had a piece of tape on it. She was about to tear it off until I saw something written on it.

In bold, black lettering was her name—_Krista's_—it was _her_ wrench.

"Th-This is all mine?" Krista never got this many presents, even on her birthday and Christmas combined.

He made an approving grumble.

Krista flew upward as he grunted in surprise at her hug. She couldn't reach all away around him, but she made up with it by a strong squeeze. He gave a chuckle, reaching up with his hand and ruffling her hair.

"THANK YOU!" She repeated into his belly, swinging side to side.

"You're welcome." He peeled her from his leg.

"Go put that on. We have lots of work to do. Okay?"

"Okay!"

-x-x-x-

"Krista," he spoke up one day. He sat back on his own stool, staring at his car. Krista curiously glanced up at him. She went over to the tool box, ready to grab what he wanted.

He shook his head, though. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. He put his hat back on.

"The fair is coming up. I will be showing the cuda." He closed the hood of the car with a sigh.

Every year, Krista would go with grandma and mom to help care for their horses. Mom would go to the rodeo to see someone, and grandma would have Krista in the stables. It was tough work, but the fair was wonderful.

Krista could almost smell the cotton candy.

"You can come with me instead." He offered.

She felt her face light up.

Every time Krista went, she had to work and was never allowed to run around with the other kids. Maybe this time, Papa would let her go on the rides and get cotton candy.

"Really?" Krista jumped up, running to his leg and hugging it tightly. She felt his large hand on her head. She looked up and saw a small smile on his lips.

He gave a curt nod.

Krista tightened her hold on his leg. The old image of him—brooding, quiet, and on rare occasions he'd show tenderness—had left her. He was more than someone in a chair, reading, and listening to old music with a stoic look. He was her Papa, who gave her sweets after a long's day work in the barn, and would occasionally joke about grandma's cooking. He was a man who had a laugh like honey that shone in the sunlight, who whistled in perfect tune to every song, and liked to be with her all day, every day.

-x-x-x-

The days went by fast working under the hood of Papa's hotrod. School was an obstacle to overcome when all Krista wanted to do was fetch tools, sing to music, and giggle next to Papa, scrubbing the grease away under the sink.

The thoughts of the fair never left her mind, especially the caramel apples and the Ferris wheel. Krista had always wanted to go on it. With all the sweets she could have, she would see the world from above—high as the clouds and away from chores and the bullies. Every time Krista went to the fair, she would be kept in the stables with the horses. She was never let out to get cotton candy or to enjoy the rides or see the rodeo.

Until today.

It was early morning of the day of the fair. The grass was frosty and made their steps crunchy. The valley behind the barn was veiled in mist with its hills peeking from its blanket. The horses were close to the stables near the barn as if preparing for the trip. One of them was trotting to and fro by the fence in excitement. Krista felt just like that horse.

She skipped and pranced near Papa. He gave a look at her with a ghost of a smile.

"You went to the bathroom, right?" He questioned when they reached the barn doors. He pried open the large door until it swung open. It hit the side of the barn with a hollow thud.

"Yes!" Krista was skipping over to the fence where the horses were. She dug out some sugar cubes from her pocket and put them in her open palm. Carefully, Krista fed a cube to each horse that came near.

"Be good for grandma. She hurt her back," she told them all. They were usually well-mannered, but Krista wanted to make sure they understood just in case.

"Krista," Papa called over. She waved goodbye to the horses and ran to the workshop. Papa stood waiting on her side of the car. Once he saw Krista, he opened the door and picked her up in his arms. She grinned at him and she could see his mustache rise and his lips curl in return. He buckled her up and went to his side. He slid in with a grunt.

He glanced over with a look of excitement. Krista gave him an earnest nod.

He turned the key and the engine roared to life! She could feel it vibrate her seat as she giggled in amazement. He shared her sentiment by chuckling.

"She feels wonderful!" His voice didn't betray his happiness. Krista jumped up and down on her seat.

"Let's go! Let's go!" The leather seats were cold as ice, but Krista didn't mind. They were so happy and excited! Papa turned up the heat and fiddled with the radio station until the oldies were on. Krista knew the song and immediately sang with it. A low whistle blew through Papa's lips as they began together—whistle and voice.

They pulled out the barn and into the sunlight. She watched their horses and their house and soon their property leave the view as they pulled out of the driveway and onto the dirt road.

They were going somewhere far away from here. The thought made Krista smile so much that her cheeks hurt.


	4. Chapter 4: Wisteria Grove and Her

The smell of deep fried foods and sweets met Krista's nose before she could open her eyes. Krista woke up from her nap to the fair. The autumn sun was out and bright with none of the typical October overcast. Cars of all sorts were around Papa's, but they all had one thing in common—they were all shiny. Men were going over them with towels even though they sparkled. Just like Papa.

They pulled up into a vacant spot as Papa got out, talking with a man with a clipboard. He was given a large piece of paper with a number on it to put in front of his car. Krista stepped out with him, glancing around. Happy murmuring came from the crowd around the cars. Many handshakes were dealt with business cards and hearty laughs. As she kept looking she saw that there were no kids here.

Was this the same fair that she went to with grandma?

"Krista," Papa called her over after he was done talking to another bushy-mustached man. Krista went over to him, ready to start whatever he would have her do, but instead he went to fishing into his pockets, retrieving his dark, worn leather wallet. He pulled out a ten dollar bill that was wrinkly like his hands.

"Get me a 'dog, treat yourself," he put the bill in her hands. Krista gripped it tightly, afraid she might lose it, as he gave her an encouraging nudge on her back, making her step towards where the food vendors would be. She glanced back at him, uncertain. There were a lot of people and above them, proudly erected like a mechanical mountain, stood the red and white Ferris wheel in the distance. Seeing it made Krista smile and take off to the food stands, knowing Papa might let her go on it if she was good.

She went along the sides, fitting through the areas between stands and fences, avoiding the crowd and out of sight. There were all sorts of nooks to be found along the way, but Krista had her mission. She crept quietly like a thief in the shadows, pretending that she could not be seen at any costs. Soon, the smell of hotdogs was wafting into her nose, making her stomach growl as she slid around a generator and was in the back of the hot dog stand. Krista snuck around, making sure nobody paid attention to her, and went to the counter. She couldn't see above it but she waited, and waited. She was either a very good thief for being hidden, or there wasn't anyone attending the stand. Krista put her hands up on it, gripping the edges, and pulled herself up till her elbows could prop her up better against the counter. A man sat there, eyebrow raised before smiling.

"Didn't see you there, lil' lady! Now, what may I do for you?" He got up and leaned over the front so Krista didn't have to hold herself up. She presented him the ten dollars.

"Two hotdogs, please," Krista gave the best smile she could, because grandma said to always smile when asking for something.

"What good manners," he took the bill and went to preparing the hotdogs. He put the condiments on, red and yellow thick from end to end, and the other with red squiggly lines and a smiley face. He brought back the change and hot dogs.

"Now, be careful, they're hot!"

"Thank you very much!" She put the money in her pocket, carefully took the hotdogs. With the quest items in hand she realized she couldn't take the challenging path she used to get there. The hotdogs would not survive the trip back if she did.

Krista glanced around but there was nothing familiar about this place. She couldn't possibly get back like this. Gripping the boats of the hotdogs, she went the path she came from as it was the only path she knew. Krista was beginning to squeeze through a small gap when she about lost both of the dogs. She quickly and carefully backed out of that spot and back into the mass of the fairgoers.

Krista stood still, glancing around, and then closing her eyes. She could hear grease sizzling, people talking, kids her age squealing and hollering, but she couldn't pick up the sound of deep laughter or engines revving. To make things worse, the speakers that dotted the fairgrounds began to play music, mixing everything into a thick soup of unfamiliarity and confusion.

Krista took a few steps further into the crowd but went back to where she stood.

What if she took the wrong way? Krista may never find her way back to Papa.

What if he left her if she didn't get back in time? Then she'd be left here with strangers.

With nothing but two hotdogs and six dollars to live off of.

Forever.

-x-x-x-

"Keep up, keep up!" Ymir held her sister's hand, tugging her through the crowd, but she kept dawdling behind her, occasionally tripping on her ratty shoelaces.

Sasha was by Ymir's side, sniffing the air and licking her lips.

"It smells so good," she sighed and held her stomach. They didn't have the money for it either way. Dad said they'd have to eat sandwiches while he helped attend grandma's stand, but Ymir saw he had twenty dollars in his wallet.

"W-wait up!" Ilse cried, stumbling, dirt-stained shoe laces flip-flopping left and right. Ymir stopped and kneeled down, making Ilse sit on the ground. People went around them as Sasha kept poking her head around the stands as if she had the money to buy things.

"Watch me," Ymir said, showing Ilse how to tie her shoelaces. Everyone knew the bunny trick but Ymir. Nobody taught her it so she made up an easier way. Ilse watched with a smile as Ymir fastened her laces. Once done, she helped Ilse off the ground and took her hand again. They kept walking, trying to get over to the carnival rides. They all saved up two months' worth of recycling cans to a total of five dollars each. They all agreed to spend it on the rides, but seeing Sasha eye the food was making Ymir think that wouldn't be possible.

"C'mon," Ymir said as Sasha was being left behind. Ymir went to turn as boys and girls went rushing past her, bumping her and Ilse off to the side.

"Ew!" One glanced back.

"They smells like cigarettes!" The girl said loud, pointing at Ymir and Ilse before laughing and leaving. Ymir was going to run after them and show them how gross they'd look after she beat them, but Ilse kept her back, not for the sake of the other kids but to sniff her clothes.

"I-I don't smell anything." She said confused. Ymir didn't respond, watching the other kids play tag. They all had clean, fitting clothes. Their hair all neat and perfect. She only had her oversized one-hole-under-the-armpit shirt, sewn up jeans. Ilse wasn't better off, having clothes she had when she was Ilse's age.

"It doesn't matter," Ymir gripped her hand tighter, going back to searching for Sasha.

"Sasha! C'mon! Let's go!" Ymir called out to her, seeing Sasha standing in between stands.

"Sasha?"

"Ymir!" Sasha yelled, waving her over and pointing where she stood. Ymir rolled her eyes and went over to her. Ilse ran over, looking at what wonder Sasha might've found. Last time, she found a dead rat.

By the time Ymir got over there, Sasha and Ilse parted to reveal a small girl with blond hair. She wore a little pink dress that was now stained with dirt, a smudge of ketchup, and a lot of tears. Like little sparkling stars they fell from her eyes as she held onto two hotdogs as if they could possibly get stolen any time.

"Hey," Ymir stepped forward, but she didn't budge.

"Hey," Ymir said louder and went forward until she was kneeling by her.

The girl jumped. One hot dog went sliding down but Ymir quickly caught it and put it back safely in her little hands. She flinched and went backwards.

"Hey," Ymir smiled. The girl was quiet but her tears kept falling from her blue eyes. She wasn't like them—Ymir, Sasha, and Ilse—but she knew a scared child when she saw one. Ymir scooted slowly towards her like how she would when her friend Marco was afraid and crying. The girl kept her attention on Ymir, sniffling.

Slowly, Ymir extended her arm out to her, palm open, and fingers seeking. Just like how her dad showed her.

"My name is Ymir."

-x-x-x-

The dark hand was open and expecting a return. Krista kept her eyes on it, trying to figure out what this girl would want from her. The boys would hide shocking things in their hands when they did this to her, or have a trick up their sleeve. Krista glanced up at her, the girl with the strange name, Ymir, and then at the two who were hiding behind her, looking Krista. They all were darker than the kids at Krista's school, but two of them had freckles like some of the kids at her school.

"K-Krista," she put my hand out, giving a hesitant shake. No thumb-tacks jabbed into her palm, no weird sensation. Ymir's hand gripped around hers, strong and soft. She shook it and withdrew.

"Krista," Ymir grinned with some teeth missing. Krista gave a wavery smile back.

"Why're you back here crying?" The younger looking one spoke up. Ymir shot her a disapproving look, but Ymir's eyes were bright and curious just like the others.

"I-I'm lost, and I-I think I got left." Krista didn't want to believe Papa left her, but she took so long to get back. She knew that he'd grow impatient. He probably forgot her.

The hotdogs were getting cold, too.

"Oh," Ymir frowned. Her brown eyes were looking at Krista. She glanced away, looking at the sky. Krista looked up, too, but saw she was looking at the Ferris wheel instead.

"Do you know where you're supposed to be?" She asked, looking back at her. The sun shone and this time Krista saw that Ymir's eyes weren't brown, but yellowish, but not yellow, but not brown…they were something else.

"Y-yeah," Krista wiped her nose on her arm, but froze, realizing what she did. The three didn't seem fazed at all at her rude behavior.

"M-my papa is at the car show," Krista mentioned. Ymir and the girl with the pony-tail grinned at each other.

"We know where that is!" The pony-tailed girl came flying towards Krista, startling her. Krista about lost her hot dog, again, but Ymir quickly caught it, giving her a smile as she put it safely back into Krista's hands.

"Yeah, we do. Sasha, lead the way," Ymir saluted to her friend. Krista didn't understand why but the other girl returned it and went marching with the youngest in hand. Ymir laughed.

"C'mon, Krista! Let's go!" Ymir took the hot dogs from her, her hands and fingers gentle, as Krista stood up.

"I will carry these. You're klutzy," she smirked. Her long, dark hair was in a half-ponytail. Bangs were strewn in all sorts of directions. Krista quickly went behind her, following her and the other two, but Ymir slowed down, letting her walk beside her. Krista kept her eyes on the others, the pony-tailed girl who was smiling and looking at all the food stands, and the smallest who was shy and curious.

"That's Sasha," Ymir nodded to the tallest one, "she eight. And that's my little sister, Ilse, she's six."

Ymir glanced at Krista as she nodded. Sasha, Sasha, Sasha, Ilse, Ilse, Ilse… Krista kept repeating the names on her tongue to try and remember them.

"How old are you? I'm nine." Ymir seemed to square her shoulders, picking her chin up, looking tall and proud.

"I'm eight." Krista gave a reluctant smile. She didn't notice till now but there was a strong smell on Ymir—it was Mom's smell after she got back from smoking outside. Krista didn't like it, but the way Ymir smiled back at her made her not want to turn away anymore.

"You're really small, though!" Ymir looked Krista up and down. Krista flinched and brought her hands to her chest, playing with them.

"I-I—"Ymir cut off Krista's apology with another laugh. Krista never met another kid her age who smiled and laughed as much as Ymir. At least to Krista.

"I thought you were six like my sister!" She offered Krista to carry one of the hotdogs. She took it and was surprised when Ymir took her wrist, tugging her up ahead with her two friends.

"Hey, hey, Sasha! Krista is eight like you!" She let go of Krista as Krista stood between her and Sasha.

"Really?" Sasha was excited, "we can go on the rides together!"

Ymir nodded eagerly at the proposal.

"How about it Krista?" Ymir glanced at her. Sasha and Ilse were staring at Krista, too, waiting for her reply.

"I-I—I don't know if I can…I-I—"Krista felt Sasha's arm go around her shoulders, shaking her.

"Don't worry! My dad says I got puppy eyes! If I help you ask I bet I can get you to come!" She bragged. Ymir rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't have puppy eyes. She just won't stop asking!" Ymir poked Sasha's side. The other girl yipped in surprise and soon enough they were running around Ilse and Krista, Sasha hot in pursuit and Ymir easily jumping and twirling away while managing to not drop the hotdog.

"D-don't fight!" Ilse cried out. Sasha stopped, sighing.

"When I go to your house, I will beat you on the trampoline!"

"You can't!"

"I can, too!"

The two gave each other wicked grins until Sasha stuck her tongue out and went back to leading. The crowd got thinner and thinner until Krista saw Papa leaning against his car, looking at his watch. His mustache was twitching like a bunny nibbling on a carrot.

"Papa!" Krista immediately ran up to him, feeling herself start to cry again. Papa's eyes went wide for a second as she hugged his leg, almost dropping the hotdog again.

"Krista, what took you so long?" His dark eyes were narrowed, angry. Krista tried telling him but she kept stumbling over my words.

"Um, sir," Sasha stepped forward, looking nervous, "she-she got lost! We helped her back."

"And here's your hotdog! I think," Ymir gave the mustard and ketchup one to him. He glanced at the trio and then at Krista. He sighed, shaking his head but a very small smile was on his lips.

"It's fine," he said, ruffling my hair. Krista pulled away, rubbing her snot on her sleeve again, trying to calm down. Papa gave Krista his handkerchief as Ymir and Sasha awkwardly sat there, glancing anywhere but Krista.

"Are you ok?" Ilse came up, holding Krista's hand. She gave a little nod, sniffling.

"U-Uh, sir!" Sasha's face was stern. Ilse and Ymir began to snicker.

Papa gave her a look. Sasha only grew stiffer.

"I—Is it ok if Krista can play with us?!" Her words shot out so fast that Krista barely was able to understand her. Papa gave a grunt and brought the hotdog up to his mouth, taking a bit bite of it. Some of the mustard and ketchup was in his mustache.

"After she eats," he gave a nod, taking another bite. Sasha bounced up and down.

"Thank you, sir!" She was grinning, showing that she, too, had missing teeth, but some of hers had metal caps on them. Krista took her hotdog and quickly ate it, anxious to go play. Once She was done they all were about to run back to the fair.

"Wait," Papa beckoned Krista back over, "you still have the six dollars I gave you?"

Krista gasped and quickly tried giving it back, but he shook his head.

"Be back by five."

"Thank you, Papa!" Krista hugged his leg, "I love you! Bye!"

Papa snorted, waving her off as she raced with Ymir, Sasha, and Ilse, heading towards the Ferris wheel that touched the sky. They didn't run too fast as Ilse was too small.

"You're really fast!" Sasha gasped as Krista passed her, trying to catch up Ymir, but she was nine years old and Krista was still a weak eight.

"W-wait up!" Ilse yelled at them. Tears were beginning to go down her face. Ymir slowed down, taking Ilse's hand. Krista passed her with a triumphant smile, but Ymir didn't seem to care.

"Don't cry! I will bring you back to dad if you do!" Ymir stopped running with a frown. Ilse smiled, wiping her tears away.

"Hey! You were just faking it!" Ymir's frown deepened, unhappy that she was played. Sasha and Krista halted and went back.

"I will bring you back to dad if you pull that again," Ymir huffed, yanking Ilse along as she giggled as if she never had cried in the first place. Krista walked on Ymir's other side as Sasha came up beside her.

"Six dollars, huh? We got five each." She said, counting. Slowly, they began to think until they stopped near an open area with dirt. Sasha found a straw on the ground and began to write out the equation.

"We have... 19 dollars!" She said, smiling. Ymir laughed, stomping on her handiwork and began to do the work herself.

"No, we have twenty-one dollars." She showed her the correct way to add up. Sasha grumbled as Ymir scuffed the rest out.

"We can go on the Ferris wheel and get popcorn!" Ymir said.

"Krista can probably get candy, too."

"I—I can share." Krista didn't want to be the only one who would be eating it by herself. Sasha immediately linked her arm with Krista's.

"That's that! Let's go to the Ferris wheel!" She shouted, jumping up and down. Krista couldn't figure out whether it was about the candy, the ride, or maybe even both.

"Alright, alright, let's go. C'mon Ilse," she tugged her sister along. The sun was lowering in the sky and the lights of the fair began to turn on. All the rides were in an array of bright neon that flickered and danced.

Standing tall was the Ferris wheel, a shining sign that could be seen from any part of the fair.

Krista could feel her smile hurt her cheeks. Today was it. The day that she could be on top of the world, where nothing could reach her.


End file.
